


After Mission Debriefing

by Merfilly



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Episode Tag, Feelings, First Time, Loss of Control, Love Bites, M/M, Self-Sacrifice, Smut, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10211369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: Sarpeidon left its marks on Len, but he'd rather Spock not know that. So of course the son-of-a-Vulcan has to butt in.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Billythesock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Billythesock/gifts).



Leonard McCoy was not fully forthcoming in his report on events that had happened on Sarpeidon. He could only hope that the events had not been as clear in Spock's mind, even as he locked his office door and slowly peeled off his clothing to tend himself. He had to open the supply closet to reveal the full-length mirror there, and he almost cursed a blue streak to see how extensive the bruising and bites were.

The comm chose that moment to go off.

"Doctor McCoy?"

That green-blooded, pointy-eared hobgoblin had the absolute worst timing. Yet, if Len didn't answer, it was only going to make events worse. He moved to where he could push the answer button.

"Yes, Spock?"

He managed to keep his voice level and at the right tone of polite interest, he thought, but there was a longer than average pause on the other end.

"I wish to speak with you on certain matters pertaining to the mission we have recently finished, Doctor. Is now a good time?"

The voice gave away nothing. It could be routine post-action debriefing. Len didn't think he'd be that lucky.

"Not right now, Spock. Give me half an hour, and then you can join me in my office." Len would bite the bullet, but not until after he'd used a tissue stabilizer on his injuries. He didn't need to get an infection. If he was right, and those moments of madness had been lost to Spock, Len didn't want anything to shake the memories free. It had not been Spock's fault, and all things being equal? Len was actually relieved he'd been the one Spock attacked in the blood-fever, instead of Zarabeth. The last thing that woman needed was to be dealing with the aftermath of Spock's attentions.

"Very well, Doctor. Thirty minutes."

The comm cut out, and Len got back to dealing with the bites and bruises as best he could. He could not trust anyone to help, but fortunately, Len had always been fairly flexible.

* * *

_Sarpeidon_

The night was colder than the day, even in the safety of the cave. They weren't deep enough to have the fortune of a constant temperature, and couldn't afford to go looking for a deeper spot. Len tried to find a balance between logic and outright calling the woman a liar. Right now, it seemed best to let it lay. Only, Spock was looking his way, where he'd chosen to curl up in the borrowed fur and try to conserve heat.

The answer, Len decided, was to pull the fur over his face, to trap his breath inside there, at least for a few minutes, so he could breathe without ice crystals in his lungs.

The next thing he knew, the fur was being pulled back, and Spock was right there, his features twisted up in a parody of a devil figure from bygone eras.

"Spo—"

His words were cut off as intense cold touched his skin, the fur fully removed, and his mouth was assaulted by the Vulcan's. It settled idly in Len's mind that the other man was starkly nude, adding to the illogic and violence of earlier to add up to a horrible conclusion.

The reversion to Vulcan's violent past was interacting with Spock's skewed biology. It had to be, Len thought desperately, as he realized how hot the skin pressing against him was. He could feel it through his thin uniform, something that was fast becoming an inconvenience to the aroused Vulcan. The pair of furs were deftly pulled over the Vulcan, though the body pressing him down never let up, and Len was in no shape to truly fight him off.

The kiss let up, and Len tried again. "Spock."

"Shut-up," the Vulcan growled, sliding his hands down in proprietary fashion over the doctor's waist and hips. 

Len managed to meet the man's eyes in the dim lighting, and saw no trace of reason, logic, or compassion. If he struggled too much, it would grow even more violent, draw the woman into it, or both… and there was a very real chance of provoking murder, if Spock was truly lost in the blood-fever.

He reached down to open his pants, and that got a little more leniency from his captor. In the back of his mind, Len reminded himself that he did actually give a damn about the man, that Spock literally could not control himself in this moment, and that he could only heal the damage if he stayed alive.

"Let me turn over," Len offered, and was relieved when Spock didn't grow angry for his words, when the man actually backed off enough to allow it. The human closed his eyes as the pants were pushed further down, trapping his legs, and Spock took advantage to press close, his cock both hard and slick with pre-cum.

"Mine," was the quiet hiss of a word, moments before sharp teeth bit along Len's shoulder. It was a distraction from the entry into his body, and the doctor struggled to not fight. If they could just get through this, get Spock back to sanity, they would be fine.

He could do this, even as those hands held him with bruising strength, those hips flexed repeatedly, and those teeth marked a blaze of ownership along shoulders and ribs.

For Spock, he could do this. Len just hoped that, like the full events of Spock's fight with Kirk during his first blood-fever, that the details were lost in the morning.

* * *

_The Enterprise_

On the exact minute offered for their meeting, Spock was at the office. Len had managed to get everything cared for and was already sitting down when the man came in.

He did not expect Spock to shut the door or key in a security command. That made Len twitch, to want to escape. What he could endure while Spock was out of his mind with biology, he would not face in the sobriety of their civilization.

"Your report neglected details." Spock did not sit, just stood by the door, hands behind his back, and that still some of Len's apprehensions.

"I was a bit hazy on events, Spock, between the hypothermia and the scramble that machine had on my wits," Len said with false confidence.

Spock looked at him, as if seeking the mysteries of the universe in his face. "Doctor, I am normally willing to accept that your prevarications are a facet of your personality that is inescapable. In this case, I must insist on facts."

Len took a breath, matched that fathomless gaze, and asked, "Why?"

Spock's eyebrow arched up, and for a moment, Len thought he might back off at being questioned. Then there was a subtle shift, and Len felt worry, perhaps actual concern, and a deep self-loathing… that was not his own.

"Because during the events of the mission, Doctor, I seem to have made a bond with you, and I do not recall initiating one. I am also deeply aware that this bond is saturated with… sexual energy."

"Damn it, Spock," Len cursed, but there was no heat. "When you reverted, it kicked off your biology," he made himself say. "I didn't realize you were bonding to me. I just wanted to keep you safe, to make certain you came through it, and I didn't see any need to put that in a report!"

The stoic man blanched, and he wound up moving forward, putting both hands on the desk to peer at Len more closely. "I ra—"

"NO!" Len immediately cut that off. "I consented. Yes, the situation was not one I would have preferred to be in, but you needed me, Spock! I was not about to let you come to harm, or do something worse because you could not think your way through it!"

That set Spock back even worse, as he frowned, and then logic worked through the issue at hand… along with a touch along that pulse in Len's mind.

"You… hold feelings for me?" Spock questioned.

Len wanted to lie. He wanted to push it aside with sardonic wit, but Spock was in his mind. "It doesn't have to be an issue, Spock. Perfectly accustomed to ignoring that part of my heart," he said gruffly. "I only want your word not to do something stupid like put yourself on report or mention this to Jim, would ya?"

Spock considered the words, and then folded all but two fingers back on one hand, and reached toward Len. "I prefer, Leonard, to espouse the bond I gave you, and explore the possibilities of our union in less traumatic fashion."

Len's mouth went dry, and maybe he did hesitate too long, because something in the bond or the posture told him Spock was moving toward the logically senseless route of confessing his crimes, so to speak, and Len quickly shoved his hand out, in the Vulcan gesture of intimacy.

"I never would have guessed," Len said softly.

"Logically speaking, given the availability of another person to whom I did evince attraction, it is obvious that my personal opinions on the matter were quite evident," Spock said, before he came around the desk in a swift, efficient manner. "You are injured, because of my actions. I can feel the residual pain."

"I tended it."

Spock drew in a breath, then rested his hand, open palm, along Len's cheek. "You refuse to have me punished. You were willing to hide this even from me. Will you not, Doctor, allow me some measure of amelioration for my actions?"

Len couldn't help but push into that gentle touch, as unusual as he knew it would be, no matter what they chose between them, should the bond and intimacy fail to work for them. "Pushy hobgoblin." He gathered up a portable kit and slowly stood. "Your place or mine?"

Maybe they'd be fine. Maybe it would work out in the end.

"As I hope to induce you to a level of comfort that leads to true rest, Leonard, shall we adjourn to yours?"

"Sounds good to me."


End file.
